ed its
course. It was now beyond a doubt that we were moving between the
two halves of a continent, one on the east, the other on the west,
which formed the vast antarctic region. And I thought it was matter
of great regret that we could not get aground on one or the other
side of this vast strait, whose surface would presently be
solidified by the coming of winter.

When I expressed this sentiment to Captain Len Guy, he made me the
only logical answer:

"What would you have, Mr. Jeorling? We are powerless. There is
nothing to be done, and the persistent fog is the worst part of our
ill luck. I no longer know where we are. It is impossible to take an
observation, and this befalls us just as the sun is about to
disappear for long months."

"Let me come back to the question of the boat," said I, "for
the last time. Could we not, with the boat--"

"Go on a discovery cruise? Can you think of such a thing? That
would be an imprudence I would not commit, even though the crew
would allow me."

I was on the point of exclaiming: "And what if your brother and
your countrymen have found refuge on some spot of the land that
undoubtedly lies about us?"

But I restrained myself. Of what avail was it to reawaken our
captain's grief? He, too, must have contemplated this eventuality,
and he had not renounced his purpose of further search without being
fully convinced of the folly of a last attempt.

During those three days of fog I had not caught sight of Dirk
Peters, or rather he had made no attempt to approach, but had
remained inflexibly at his post by the boat. Martin Holt's
questions respecting his brother Ned seemed to indicate that his
secret was known--at least in part, and the half-breed held himself
more than ever aloof, sleeping while the others watched, and
watching in their time of sleep. I even wondered whether he
regretted having confided in me, and fancied that he had aroused my
repugnance by his sad story. If so, he was mistaken; I deeply pitied
the poor half-breed.

Nothing could exceed the melancholy monotony of the hours which we
passed in the midst of a fog so thick that the wind could not lift
its curtain. The position of the iceberg could not be ascertained.
It went with the current at a like speed, and had it been motionless
there would have been no appreciable difference for us, for the wind
had fallen--at least, so we supposed--and not a breath was
stirring. The flame of a torch held up in the air